From the Inside, Out
by Kaytee33
Summary: PC: The TNG Episode, Chain of Command, as told from Dr. Crusher's POV. Last chapter is up!
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV. 

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Ok, this is the problem with being an English Major...eventually, you're gunna try to do what you read about. This is my attempt at a Margaret Laurence-like stream of consciousness. As you may have noticed by now, I like to do things from Bev's POV, I hope that's ok with everyone. As always, I'm very excited to hear what you have to say about this piece...please send me a review 

Author's note #2: this story begins once Picard, Worf and Crusher are already en route to Cardassian space.

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter One**  
Morning on a Ferengi freighter, could there be anything more beautiful? Ha. I roll over on the mattress (if that's what you can call it) that Worf graciously allowed me to sleep on last night. It's funny, I'd almost prefer the floor...who knows who was here before me. This place smells, feels unfamiliar: the mattress is contorted to fit another's body. Judging by the deep shoulder-blade indents, I'd say this bed has been occupied by a Klingon...sometime in the recent past...

I roll over, feeling the curve of my body push against the hard metal plank beneath my mattress; I decide its time to get up.

I enter the main passenger area, where the Ferengi and Jean-Luc sit in silence, monitoring the autopilot on the shuttlecraft. I can't help but wonder if they are busying themselves to fill the silence with purpose. I bet Jean-Luc still feels a little embarrassed about that whole me-seducing-a-Ferengi thing...I know I do. Using my body, my fingers...for a mission. It makes me feel used, dirty. I wish Jean had not seen that. Stop, stop. I will not taint this time. From the moment we left the Enterprise, I've had a sinking feeling that Jean-Luc, Worf and I are not meant to return from this mission. Theta band radiation: to stop that the federation would surely send three lowly officers to their death in Cardassian space.

If there is one glimmer of hope in this entire thing, I feel it is Jean-Luc's presence here. If anyone can save us, it's him. He's gotten out of worse than this._ He will save me._

"Good Morning," he greets me as I enter the room, seemingly relieved to have someone for conversation other than the great Solak. Ugh. Just thinking of his name makes me shudder in remembrance of what I did to get us on this ship. There. Did he just look at me, did he just check me out? Is he waiting for me to follow-through on my flirtations? No, no. I'm just projecting my guilt from the incident. There. I saw it. He glanced at me again. Holding my right arm protectively across my body, I sit. I sit in the chair closest to Jean-Luc, hoping for...oh I don't know, just comfort I guess. Yes, comfort in his presence.

I smile in acknowledgement of Jean-Luc's greeting and wait for him to speak. I know that he has a sort of, waiting-to-fill-me-in-on-something kind of look. You know, with his eyebrows raised, hands ready to gesture as he speaks. I love that I know him this well.

"I hope you slept well." He states. Not a question, just a statement, he doesn't really want to know...just being polite...just filling the gap in conversation. I nod and wait for him to continue, knowing the pleasantries are over. 

"Mr. Worf has been preparing the equipment for our expedition in the back. Our ETA is approximately 20 minutes so I suggest you start assembling your own equipment, doctor..." There's my title, not my name. He's speaking very distantly. Probably for many reasons. It's going to be all business today. Today, well, we'll probably die today. The thought sends a kind of cold rush across my chest. Oh god. _Oh god. I'm going to die._ I didn't say good-bye to Deanna. I didn't clean my quarters. I didn't finish my reports. _Jean-Luc._ What if he dies? I didn't call my nana on her birthday...

Jean-Luc is still talking. I'm nodding, I am listening. I quickly re-check my composure, trying to seem professional. Sitting up straight, arms at my sides, in spite of my temptation to put them across my body: that damn Ferengi is staring again.

He's done. "Yes, Captain. And I suggest that we run one more quick bio-scan before beaming down. I doubt any of the preliminary reports for this mission were made from this close to the planet. We may pick up something harmful that wouldn't register on a long-range scan."

"Agreed" he replies, "ETA is in 15 minutes, we'll meet at the transporter at that time." 

I'm up, I'm out of the room. I guess that was a normal conversation, was there anything in his voice? Any emotion? Am I just wishing it were there? Does he know he could die?

I prepare quietly, quickly. I change as fast as possible so as not to be nude for long on a shuttlecraft full of males. I can't help but feel a certain pride for being on this mission. Worf, the strongest being (well, other than Data) aboard the Enterprise, Jean-Luc, one of the most valued officers in all of Starfleet...and me. I am in good company.

As I pack my tricorder, I wonder, though not for the first time, how Jean felt about me being put on this mission. Was he glad to have his own CMO, someone he could trust, with him? Was he scared I might die? Because of Jack? Because, maybe, perhaps, he cared for me...loved me? No, no. Too strong. Not love. "Care deeply for" works better. We're friends. Just because _I'm_ in love with the man doesn't mean he has to return it. Gods, is it possible for me to be friends with a man? Really, just friends? Certainly not with Jean-Luc. Even when I was with Jack I wished that Jean-Luc loved me. I even pretended that I caught him looking at me wistfully once in a while: convinced myself he had a crush on me. How silly. Maybe I'm just a Jack-substitute. You know, can't hang around with Jack so I'll befriend his wife. Maybe he just feels guilty because he blames himself for my being a widow. No, no. He and I have more of a connection than just Jack...we're friends, _I love him._ Stop that Beverly, crooning over your boss will get you nowhere. What was I thinking about? Oh yeah, this damn black suit. It itches. I pull on the hood and head for the transporter. I'm early with 2 minutes to spare.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Hello again. For those of you who surf the alt.startrek.creative, yes, this is the same story I posted there last year…I just feel I've finally perfected it enough for my first posting to I hope everyone is enjoying so far! Thanks to my early reviewers, and SonOfTed, I hope to deal with many more issues as the story progresses. Please R and R everyone!

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Two**   
...and we're in the caves. If it weren't for the danger of this situation, I'd probably make a joke about these silly uniforms. Like a "oh this is embarrassing, we chose the same outfit" ...hmm, or maybe a "good thing we wore BLACK to blend in with this nice GREY rock". Ha, it's a good thing I've learned to bite my tongue. I don't think Worf would be very amused. Ok, _ok, Focus._ Oh god, I hope this training I've learned doesn't come in handy. If this mission goes perfectly, I won't need it at all. We'll walk in, maybe shoot some Cardassians, get what we need, and run like hell. If all goes well, we'll be home in two days. I can go back to sickbay...maybe even deliver Carla's baby...she's due in...no, was it one week or two? I guess I've been off duty for about two weeks now and when we left she was just at eight months...wow, I don't think I've ever worn anything this itchy before. Ok, dammit, Focus. Just breathe, just follow. _Just Focus._ Mmmm, Jean-Luc does look good though. All this physical training has really...no, no I need to Focus. We could be attacked at any time. Wait, wait. What's that up ahead, a cliff? They're not going to make me go down that...are they? Oh god, they're strapping up.

"Guess there's no other way down is there?" I say aloud to Worf. He looks at me like I'm completely stupid...he says something like "You're not afraid, are you doctor?". I bite my tongue again...that was a close one. I merely reply "Of course not", and continue on unnoticed. Jean-Luc is already at the bottom, I don't want to frustrate him, so I repel down as quickly as I can. I don't think he's said one thing to me since we were in the transporter room...Well, of course not. Right now, we're not friends; I'm an officer on his team. Maybe he's even blocked out the fact that it's me. Maybe he just sees the uniform at this point. Gods, how do I know, it's not like I've said anything to him, he may be thinking the exact same thing, _Beverly is acting very distantly_ or something like that. I wonder if he thinks in that gorgeous, deep talking voice he has, or if his internal monologue has less authority. Gods, I love _that voice._ I could listen to it all day...like that time I pretended I couldn't remember what Hamlet said about death, so Jean-Luc would read it to me. Absolutely amazing. I wonder if there's anything the man can't do. We're crawling through a small tunnel, good thing I'm not afraid of close spaces...but oh, thinking of fear: we have to go back up that cliff at the end of all this. Ok, ok, enough mental recess, we're almost at the lab, time to Focus, for real this time Bev. 

What? what's happening? Suffocation...rocks...on me...a cave-in. Somewhere in the distance of my consciousness, I hear Jean-Luc shouting my name. Beverly! Beverly! Not my title, _my name_...maybe he does care. Ah, pain shoots through my entire body. My head feels light; I must have gotten a pretty hard knock. Doesn't seem bad enough to be a concussion though...no limbs broken, I'll be fine. I feel a large, strong pair of arms holding me, no pulling me. Worf. I am fine, I am safe. As Worf pulls me out, Jean-Luc grabs me from him and pulls me out of the tunnel to stand on my own. In his eyes: fear, and is that...dancing in the very corner of his worrying eyes...no it couldn't be..._love?_ It's gone too fast for me to really see. I'm brushing myself off, I'm fine. I make a lame joke to prove it. We move forward...at least I got to see love again...in case I die today...if I die today...when? I die today. 

There's the lab. We're here. My tricorder is going nuts. Let's just do this. Let's save the universe and go back to our normal lives. I'm tired. The door opens; we're all ready and armed. We're in the room...but there's no lab, just an emitter. I look to Worf and Jean-Luc. _A Trap._ A hot, burning wave of fear rushes over my entire body. This is it.

The room quickly fills with Cardassians, shooting and fighting. I go into a sort-of combat autopilot. I was never that good at fighting, but I can hold my own...even against big, angry, hulking Cardassians. This has to be the end.

I hear Worf, holding the door and calling to me. Before I can think, I run out of the door. I land on the ground, feeling the ache in my body intensifying. I think I've bruised my everything. I look up, Worf's still holding the door, but then gets hit by a weapon charge and falls to the ground beside me. Oh god. Jean-Luc. He's still in there. I ran to save my own ass while he kept them distracted so that...

The tricorder shows many, many, many more Cardassians coming our way. We have to get _out._ I try to pull Worf but he protests. "We have to save the captain." Oh Worf don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm falling apart inside as I prepare to flee? All I can give him is logic. "No, there are more Cardassians coming this way." I pull him, he obliges, and we're gone. I run, but I've left my heart there. Jean-Luc. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, _I'm sorry,_ I'm sorry, sorry. I'm apologizing with every step as I move farther away from him. Oh god. If he dies, it's my fault. I've killed him. I've killed my soul mate.


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Hey All! Thanks to those who've reviewed thus far. I hope to ease away any confusion that may have been left over from the last chapter with the next few chapters...please let me know what you think.

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Three**  
We reach the beam up point, and are pulled back to the ship by the Ferengi. Only the two of us—-no Jean-Luc. He's gone, he's gone. He's lost. _Casualty._ I feel broken, I feel empty. I'm so angry with myself. Jean-Luc would have risked his life for me...why couldn't I do the same for him? I made a command decision. Was it the wrong one? Starfleet would say no. As Dr. Crusher I would say no, I had to get out. As Beverly however, I would say yes. I hate myself for doing this to him. To the man I love. I sure have a funny way of showing it. Dammit. Dammit. _Dammit._ I can't do this. I can't go home. I can't live while Jean-Luc is still down there. What was I saying to myself earlier today? He will save me? Well, he has and I couldn't do the same for him. He's gone. Why didn't I look before I dove through that door? Why didn't I oblige Worf and attempt a rescue? Why couldn't I die for him?

Worf has left the main area and retired to the sleeping quarters. I assume that tonight, he will not be so gracious: he'll take the bed, and give me the cold metal floor. He would never give me the comfort of a bed after the completely dishonourable thing I've done. I feel a sadness through my entire body as I curl up in one of the pilot's chairs. I'm staring out into space, but seeing nothing at all. Ophelia, in her insanity, starts singing in my head: _"He is dead and gone, Lady. He is dead and gone."_

I'm not looking forward to getting home now. It won't be _home_ without him there. I hate myself, I hate this. I have to go back and tell Jean-Luc's closest friends that he's dead...and that I didn't try to save him. I'll have to call Robert, his brother. I'll have to tell Wesley...that's two father figures dead now. Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc. It's all my fault. I'll never be able to lose this pain. Is this how you felt when Jack died? No, no. I bet you did _everything_ to try to save your best friend. Me? I just ran. I ran to save my own skin.

Ok, ok: Sleep. I need to sleep. I need to try to sleep...just try, at least. I never thought I'd be back here again: taking up the position of the mourning woman. _In tonight's production, the part of the widow will be played by_...Oh shut up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You deserve this pain. You've killed him.

Stop, I need to stop this. I don't even know if he's dead. In fact, I bet he's not. He'll be much more useful to the Cardassians alive. Oh gods, what will they do to him? Why didn't I look back? I should have looked back. I wonder if Worf will ever talk to me again.

This mission, this damn mission. Think, Bev, think. It was set up to be a trap. What did the Cardassians want to gain? The death of three random officers? No. Such an elaborate plan...it must have had a greater purpose than that... Proof of the presence of Starfleet spies in Cardassian space? No, not something that simple either. Is it possible they could have wanted Jean-Luc specifically? ...Maybe. Or is that just my personal feelings for him inflating his importance? Would the Cardassians really set up such a plot just to capture him? I have no clue. I'll have to wait till we're home to really look into it. In the meantime, I feel a small measure of security: if they need Jean-Luc Picard, they won't kill him. He'll live. I can still save him. _I can still love him._ Slowly, clinging to this tiny hope, I drift into a fitful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Thanks to my reviewers, once again especially "It's me…". PLEASE throw a review on the end of your reading…if you like it, why? If not, TELL ME SO I CAN FIX IT! Thanks for reading 

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Four**  
...Finally, the ship is in view. We've got it on our long-range sensors; Worf brings it up on the main view screen. The Enterprise. I don't even know how to feel about seeing my home again. On the one hand, I feel relieved. I can't stand being with Worf anymore. I'm starting to resent his _high and mighty_ Klingon attitude. We've been traveling for two days, and he's barely said three words to me. Wasn't...Isn't it obvious how much I cared...care about Jean-Luc? How can he be so selfish? I've asked him twice, now, if he wants to talk about this loss. About this...tragedy. He said, so bluntly, "Not with _you_". Wow. So harsh, so cruel. Do I really deserve that? Yes, yes, of course I do. I'm sure the way Worf sees it, I don't deserve to grieve, because it's my fault Jean-Luc's not with us. For the first time since I've known Mr. Worf, I think of his attitude as childish. The reality is that if we hadn't fled, all three of us would have died. Starfleet would never have known that we were the victims of a trap. No, we had to get out. I was right dammit Worf, stop condemning me! You didn't have to make the decision, so now you can sit there and criticize mine. Shut up, shut up. You would've done the same thing, but you didn't have to...

I really need to get off this shuttle. I need to get away from Worf's disapproving presence. But I deserve to be hated. No, I don't. Yes I do. If it had been anyone but Jean-Luc, I think I could let it go...eventually. With time, I could have convinced myself that it was a necessary command decision. But not here. I abandoned my best friend. I killed the man I love. Loved. Love.

At least we finally escaped the sneering, menacing presence of that damn Ferengi. I could tell when I returned to the shuttle without Jean-Luc's protective presence, that Solak could sense my vulnerability. I thought I had seen him expectantly sizing me up. Desire forever present in his eyes. When he slept, shortly after we had beamed up to the shuttle, I gave Solak a sedative: a very strong, very long-lasting sedative. I couldn't deal with him, and I knew that between Worf and me, we could handle the shuttle without him. He woke up the hour before we left. I stayed by Worf the whole time.

"I guess it's time to hail them," I say to Worf. He grunts and opens a channel. What kind of immature officer am I working with?

"Shuttlecraft Galileo to Enterprise" I can already picture how this will go...what they are thinking right now. They're starting to think: "Why is she hailing us? Where is Captain Picard? Is he dead? Is he sick? Is he captured? Is he sleeping?" Eventually, Captain Jellico responds, sounding as if he's still trying to act covertly, secretly, even though the undercover mission is over. What a fool. What a foolish man. They saw us coming; they planned for us to come. You idiot. The idiocy of Starfleet. The Captain looks sly, he looks stupid. Like he's whispering to tell me a secret that everyone already knows. I want him to shut up too.

Worf and I are greeted in the shuttle bay by Will, and Deanna. Thank goodness. I couldn't stand to see that man...the idiot...the idiot sitting in Jean-Luc's chair. He thinks he's great, he's sly, he's quick. I'm glad he's not here. I fall quickly into Deanna's tearful embrace. I whisper to her, "I couldn't save him Dee". She holds me closer; I draw a little bit of comfort from her. Worf grunts. Did he say something? Maybe it's just my imagination, but I thought he said, "You didn't even try." No, no, he wouldn't say that. But did he? I try to wipe the thought from my brain and allow Deanna to escort me to sickbay. I turn back once more before leaving the shuttle bay. Will looks crushed. He looks like he's trying to regain a captainly composure. He looks like he's trying to be Jean-Luc. The thought shoots grief through me anew and I lean heavily on Deanna. She tries to turn me forward, and we leave the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Five**  
In Sickbay, I can't lie down, I'm too restless. I don't deserve the comfort of a bed. So I sit on the edge of the biobed. I'm still staring into nothingness, but this time I'm not lost in thoughts, simply averting my eyes. I can't stand to see the pain on everyone's faces. Jean-Luc was like a father to most of them, they all loved him. That's why no one else felt comfortable calling him Jean-Luc. I bet if he had said, "Please, call me Dad" they could have made that adjustment no problem. Ha. That would be a sight: Riker on the bridge calls for him in the ready room, "Daddy, the planet is up on the main viewscreen". Oh! Or even better, in the observation lounge, Data: "Daddy, the chances of their survival at this ti...Oh. _Survival._ The word shoots me back to reality. Jean-Luc. Maybe alive, maybe not...maybe wishing he was dead. Those Cardassians scare the crap out of me. I've only heard stories, mere gossip about what they do to their captives. Jean-Luc! Oh gods, keep him safe. I would do anything, _give anything_ to switch places. To keep you safe.

Selar is scanning me, noting that I do, in fact, have a minor concussion, and a whole lot of bruising. Hmm, I was wrong. I didn't think the cave-in was bad enough to actually give me a concussion. I thought I was right about my own head, but I was wrong. I was wrong to go on this mission, I know nothing. I was unworthy. Starfleet made the wrong decision. I made the wrong decision...and now Jean-Luc is suffering. Wrong, wrong wrong. He should be here, not me.

Jellico enters the sickbay. He looks around for a moment, slightly confused, then finds where I'm sitting and walks over. Clearly, he hasn't spent the time to really know this ship. I'm sitting upon the bed where all new patients end up. Jean-Luc knew that...Riker knew that. I have no interest in getting to know...or even being nice to this man. Something about the fact that Jellico has no idea that I hate him makes me hate him more.

He begins asking me to report: in other words, review what the hell went wrong. I speak very briefly, not wanting to bother them with details...except those of the trap itself. I tell them everything I saw...and after I describe escaping the lab, Worf describes the rest: how he called to Jean-Luc, but Jean was so busy fighting, he couldn't break free to escape. I know that tears are welling up in my eyes again.

Jellico, obviously uncomfortable with the intense emotions in the room, tells me to take the rest of the day off to write out the report. As fast as he can, he's out the door. Coward, _Idiot._ I'm glad he's gone.

Deanna, clearly seeing that I need a distraction, offers to walk me to my quarters. I accept and we begin walking. She talks to entire way there: sometimes I'm so glad she's an empath. She could surely sense how hard this is hitting me. I need her so much right now. Wait, stop. Do I really want to adopt Dee as my new best friend? Wasn't she already my best friend? No, Jean-Luc was. He was the one I went to when I was in pain, or when I just couldn't sleep. I had lunches with Dee, dinners with Jean. I can't replace him: not this fast. Do I even deserve the comfort of a friend right now?

Dee's describing what happened on the ship while I was gone. Carla had her baby. I'm disappointed that I couldn't have delivered him myself. Oh well, I see why De would start with this news: new life, hope...joy. I'm happy for Carla, I smile...half-heartedly. Dee then goes on to describe the tension between Jellico and Riker...wow. It must've been pretty bad: Riker's been relieved of duty. This is nightmarish. Only Jean-Luc can solve this mess. What will Riker do if Jean doesn't come home? He couldn't go to another ship, could he? And leave Deanna? No, Jean-Luc IS coming home. We can still save him. I will still save him. Even if I have to resign from Starfleet, even if I have to sleep with a damned Ferengi. I will find you Jean. I love you too much to lose you.

Deanna leaves me at the door to my quarters. I enter. It's dark. I'm alone. I'm (finally) alone? Alone. Alone. I fall against my couch and sob from the depths of my broken heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Hello again! Just to warn, this chapter's a lot shorter than the others, and a little darker, but I am still deeming the content worthy of its own chapter. As always, reviews are the world's greatest thing :)

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Six**  
"Jellico to Dr. Crusher" My communicator sounds, rousing me from my dreams. I wake, I answer, I've been returned to duty. "Thank you," I respond, "Crusher out".

So it's back to work. Has it really been a full day since I returned from the mission? I try to shake the lingering sleep from my mind...try to recall what I did yesterday. Well, looking around, I must have fallen asleep on the couch...I guess I never made it to the bed. Have I let Worf get to me? Have I deemed myself unworthy of a bed? Yes, I suppose I have. In fact, I haven't let my head hit a pillow since _that day_. Oh gods, what the hell am I complaining about. Remember Jean? You know that supposed "best friend" of yours that you left to die? Jean-Luc. Where are you? What is happening to you? I've been home for a day, and all I've done is feel sorry for myself. I need to get up. I need to start...searching...no, not searching. I know where he is-still on that planet...Celtris III. I need to start convincing...start fighting. I don't care what happens to me. Get up. Get up.

I shower, I dress, and I'm about to leave my quarters for breakfast. Wait. Where am I going? My sub-conscious reveals it's destination to me: _to Jean-Luc's quarters_. Damn. My eyes water up. I can't start this again. I'll just leave. I'll skip breakfast. I'll eat something in my office. No, I won't...I'll skip it entirely. That meal is tainted with memories of him...Tainted? tainted? His phantom presence tainting my lonely day? No, not tainted. That's negative. Never for him. Jean-Luc is not negative. He is the centre of my positive. Remember that. Keep that in mind. It's unhealthy to skip breakfast.

I eat alone. Alone again...alone still...always alone. I decide on a simple earth-apple. I replicate a knife and begin slicing into its flesh with the blade. Briefly, oh, ever so briefly, holding the knife tightly, looking at my bare arm in front of me...I consider giving up on the apple and slicinginto my own flesh. _I deserve to bleed._ I deserve pain. I need to end the lonliness.

No.

I drop the apple and leave my quarters. I need to get away from myself NOW.


	7. Chapter 7

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Hellew! I figured I'd post this at the same time as the prvious chapter because its so darn short! Not to mention the fact that I forgot to thank my reviewers in the last chapter. The feedback to is encouraging...thank you. Anyways, on with the show!

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Seven**  
Having returned from Will's quarters, I sit in contemplation. It's been three days since I've returned from the mission...five days since I've seen Jean-Luc..._oh my Jean._ Where are you? What are they doing to you? Stop, stop. Don't go down this path Bev. You'll end up drowning in a pool of blame. Deanna's right. Self-loathing will get me nowhere. What if? What if is useless. Ok, ok. Think of something else. Will...my conversation with Will.

Will tells me that Jellico has asked him to drive a shuttlecraft through some sort of asteroid belt. Ha. That proud stupid ape had to ask Will for help. I bet he felt foolish. I was not really surprised to discover that Geordi had been the one to suggest Riker as the pilot: Well, firstly, because Will really IS the best there is...but mostly because Geordi is such a subtle peacemaker like that. I admire his calmness, his kindness... I envy his ability to speak nicely with Jellico. I still haven't been able to.

Maybe I'm just too used to privilege...Jean-Luc used to listen to my opinions, this ass does not. Like the other day when Jellico was asking me to prep sickbay for his stupid needless battle...I snapped at him. I feel slightly embarrassed at the memory...but I've snapped at Jean like that dozens of times...and what did he always do? He took me into his ready room, and asked me what was wrong. He knew that I was upset for a reason, and we worked through it. He cared about me...he listened to me not only as an officer, but as a close friend. He made me feel proud of expressing my opinion instead of belittling my emotionalism. When I snapped at Jellico he treated me like a baby...what did he say? _That's right doctor_...gods, I felt so foolish.

I miss everything about having Jean-Luc around...I know everyone else does too. I love being in love with such a wonderful man. I feel so proud of him all the time. I know I could go anywhere in Federation space and people would know him...Jean-Luc Picard. I would love to be his wife. Mme Picard. _Beverly Picard._ Mmmmm, has a nice ring to it doesn't it. We could both be so happy. I'm not too old, we could still have a family...maybe when Wes gets his commission we could request to...Wait...wait. This isn't right. Jean will probably hate me for leaving him. He'll probably never speak to me again.

No, no. Stop. It'll be alright. No self-loathing. Back to Will, back to thinking about _something_ else. I mentioned this fear to Will. That Jean would blame me for whatever the Cardassians did to him. Will responded with an awkward silence. Does he resent me for what happened too? Of course he does. I admitted my guilt in the shuttle bay, I admitted it in sickbay. Dozens of ensigns must have overheard me. The whole bloody ship probably knows by now. What did I say? "I couldn't save him"...what a baby I was: all teary eyes. They are right to hate me, I deserve to be hated. They loved him, and I left him. Oh gods, are we here _again_ Bev? Hating yourself gets nothing done. Why the hell did I say anything to Will anyways? _Odan._ That's why. I guess a little part of me still sees him in Will. I mean, I made love to Will's body. I've seen his bedroom eyes. I've felt his touch, his hand caressing my face as his entire body...But it wasn't _him._ It was Odan. Gods, everything was so simple with Odan. I could love him, and he loved me. Wait, what am I saying. He was a symbiote within a shell of flesh. It wasn't simple at all. Not even an iota of simplicity. Am I feeling that hopeless about my love for Jean-Luc that I would prefer my situation with Odan? Wow.

Ok, ok Bev. That's enough...it's time to go to bed. Must be ready for work tomorrow. Gods, why am I even pretending to be fine? I'm sure my staff knows I'm not: I've turned into the Ice Queen. Completely shut off. Alyssa...I snapped at her today for no damn reason. She followed me into my office telling me about...what the hell was she saying? Oh I don't even remember...that's terrible. Ok, bed. Calmness, breathing...listen to my heart beat. Tomorrow will be better.


	8. Chapter 8

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Eight**  
I say my "good-mornings" to my staff on the way into my office. I can see them tense as I walk by...I must have snapped at them harder than I thought yesterday. All right then, new goal: regain the trust of my staff. Like I didn't have enough on my mind. Shut-up, Bev. It was just a simple walk into the office. Gods, I over-analyse things.

It's funny though, that we still maintain the semblance of a night and day...and still work on a 24 hour structure for that matter. There are thousands...millions of planets that work on other time systems. Hmm, the arrogance of humans. I wonder how the other races handle the transition onto our time system. I'll have to do more research on it later...maybe that's why Starfleet is still 48 human officers..

The sound of a ship wide communiqué breaks through my thoughts. It's Data, calling a senior officer's meeting in five minutes. Hmmm, that's pretty quick...usually they give us an hour...must be something urgent. Do I dare even hope? Could it possibly be for him? Jean-Luc. Are you coming home at last? I feel a flutter in my chest at the thought.

I don't have time for this, I need to go. I grab a tricorder (just in case) and head for the turbolift. I dash into the 'lift and nearly knock over Deanna in the process. She acts so calm: asking me if I'm "all right", noting how I look exhausted. Her hand has a soft and comforting presence on my shoulder. It would be so tempting to break down: to cry to her. To tell her that I hadn't slept well for nearly a week. What if she thinks I'm nuts? What if she relieves me of duty? No, no. I can't tell her what I'm feeling. It would just end in me revealing my feelings for Jean-Luc. I could never tell Dee...or anyone else for that matter. I'm in love with my dead husband's best friend. I'm on love with my CO. I'm in love with a man 20 years older than me..."I'm fine," I tell her. I'm just serving my penance. We spend the rest of the ascent to the bridge in a quiet, awkward silence. I don't mind. I feel better just having her with me. At least for these few seconds I'm distracted. When did I become afraid of being alone?

Across the bridge, (with Deanna close behind, of course) and into the observation lounge. Jellico is already hunched over the head of the table. Data, and Worf (who shoots me a nasty look as I enter) are also seated. Still no Will. I wonder what he's up to. Oh wait, was that shuttle mission thing today? This early in the morning? Come on Bev, we've been over this: there's no such thing as morning in space. That must be why we're here. To find out what's happening with him.

Oh Gods, Deanna. She must be so worried about Will. I didn't even think. I look over. Her eyes are downcast: she's looking into her lap. Deanna, _I'm sorry!_ I'll have top try to catch her on the way out...ask her if she's ok. What the hell is wrong with me? I usually pick up on that kind of stuff.

Geordi rushes into the room and quickly takes a seat as we begin. No one really minds his tardiness: we all know we'd be just as late if we had to come all the way from engineering. Ha, I wonder if he ever wants to tell us to have a meeting on his bloody floor for once.

Jellico clears his throat and all of our eyes are instantly on him. We are so well-trained. Our captain has taught us to work as a team: sharing ideas to achieve the best solution. I am so proud to be a member of this distinguished crew. I wonder what would happen to the discipline of this group if Jellico were to stay in command, and Riker were to transfer ships...No. I won't even think that way. Jean will be back. Jean-Luc is coming back. He'll be with us again. _I love him so much._ Stop, that's unimportant. My feelings are inconsequential. Jellico hasn't worked for our obedience. He does not deserve to take command of this ship.

Jellico begins his briefing...but he only mentions Riker in passing...says that he was successful and is returning home...mentions he has something more important "to deal with":

"...At 1100 hours today we will be picking up Jean-Luc Picard from the Cardassian planet Celtris III, where he has been held in captivity. I have decided to send Will Riker to lead the away team down to the planet to retrieve him. Dr. Crusher, you will be joining him. Mr. Worf, as a sign of good faith, I've decided not to send you, or a security team down to the planet. However, I will ask that you prepare a small security team..."

The words wash over me like a hot shower on a wintry day. Thank the gods, thank anyone who will listen. He's alive...he's coming home. Jean-Luc is coming back to me. Jean-Luc. _He's coming home._ I feel a warmth throughout my entire body. I can barely sit in my seat. I look up briefly, only to see Deanna looking over at me with a small grin on her face. She must have felt my joy. I can barely contain it. I wouldn't be surprised if Data could sense my happiness right now.

We are dismissed, and I leave quickly to prepare sickbay. Jean will want privacy at first...I'll make sure he gets it.

Thanks to everyone who's read so far, please review too!


	9. Chapter 9

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Nine**  
Will Riker and I beam down to the planet ten minutes late as per Jellico's instructions. Something about showing strength in the face of the enemy or something...I hate that man. It's ridiculous: that's ten more minutes that Jean-Luc could be in pain...ten more minutes on the cold metal floor. Shhh, it doesn't matter: it's done now. I'm just glad to finally be here. The morning had been the most torturous time of my life. _Tortorus_...that even a word? It doesn't matter. It's the only word to describe how I feel. Torture. I feel like my insides are being squeezed in the grips of a giant fist that has entered through my stomach and is twisting around everything inside of me and pulling and...

I feel elated that Jean is coming home..but I also feel terrible that I put him here in the first place. It should have been me...but it wasn't, and now it will all be over. If he hates me once the dust has settled, I'll understand. I'll bow out gracefully. Ha, Pulaski has been dieing to come back anyways. Ok, ok. Time to be serious. Just think of Jean-Luc as a patient now. Just a patient...I can't love him right now._ Ok._

Will and I coldly greet the Cardassian waiting for us at the beam-down point. I clench my teeth, squeeze my fists..._you bastard._ If Jean is hurt at all...

The Cardassian leads us down a hallway towards...well, I don't actually know where we're going at all. The walls around us are all metal: cold, grey, dark. I suppress a chill as we walk through the labyrinth of angular hallways. The floor...Jean-Luc probably slept on this hard metal floor. Lent against these cold walls for momentary comfort in between torture sessions. Oh gods. Please let him be ok.

Already I feel the lump building in my throat. I fight it with everything in me. No. I am a professional. I will NOT give into my personal...I'm a doctor. I'm a doctor. Act like a professional dammit. You idiot, _wimp_...deep breaths. Almost there.

Walking, walking...this is the longest hallway I've ever seen in my life. Will is slowing down so that he now walks beside me. He's looking me straight in the eyes. What's in his gaze? Fear, concern...I respond by projecting a look of worry. Apparently, Will's forgotten that he blames me for this whole thing...for the moment. Must be one of those desperate clinging-to-someone-familiar sort of things. I don't blame him, in an environment like this...

Finally at the end of the hallway. We stand in front of an intimidatingly large door. And we stop...and we wait...and I'm holding my breath...and we wait. I feel like I might vomit. I want to hold Will's hand. I want to go home. I want to bring Jean-Luc home and begin to heal and get this whole damn thing over with.

What's that? The sound of metal...in motion: the door's opening. Please let him be there...please let him be...

I feel joy throughout my entire body: Jean Luc. There he is. _Jean._ The man I love. No, _shit_, no. My captain: my patient. He is pale; his normally strong stature has crumpled slightly...exhaustion, no doubt. He has deep circles under his eyes. He must be five or ten pounds thinner...or had he lost that when he trimmed down to prepare for this mission in the first place? I can't remember: my mind is completely in this moment.

He shuffles out, two Cardassian guards shoving him with the backs of their weapons. His face shows that this doesn't really upset him: that maybe _he's used to it._ I want to run over, lift him up, hold him, help him, kiss him...beat the crap out of those guards. I hold myself back.

Jean-Luc looks up, and sees, for the first time, who has come down to...greet? No...save? No, not that either...who has come down to retrieve him. Will steps in towards his captain. This is so painful to just stand back and watch...but I refuse to be emotional. I hold myself back. As Will walks forward, the battered Jean-Luc Picard wipes the pain from his face and strengthens his posture as best he can. I want to cry. Jean draws his lips up into the semblance of a smile and whispers, "Good to see you Number One". A stray tear slips down my face, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Will smiles back brightly, replying, "Good to see you too, sir." I can see the instant change in Will: the sort-of "thank god Dad's ok" expression.

Jean-Luc passes by Will to stand next to me. My heart is pounding so hard. I want to reach out and hold him...but I know that he would only resent the gesture. It would show too much weakness in front of the Cardassians...and perhaps more importantly, in front of Will. What do you want from me Jean? It's okay, he's here, he'll call the shots.

He moves to stand beside me, looking forward, away from me, as he speaks: "Hello Doctor".

_Doctor._ Doctor? How can he use my professional term? How can he treat me like just an officer? _I love him!_ Maybe he hates me. Maybe he does blame me for everything that's happened. Maybe this is a clone again and the real Jean-Luc is still trapped behind those doors that are starting to close and lock him in and...

As Will turns away to contact the transporter room, Jean-Luc slowly grabs my hand and squeezes with all the strength he can muster. What? What is this now? He was waiting for a private moment (?). Deanna's words come rushing into my brain "The captain is a very private man"...He is leaning in. Should I move to kiss him? Is he going for my ear? I'll stand still. He's in control. If he wants my lips, he'll move my head. But he's very tired, too...everything he's been through...

Before I have time to decide he begins whispering into my ear. His lips are just barely on my skin. My heart is exploding inside, outside, all around. My skin crawls in anticipation, and my everything is swirling. He says: "Thank god you're ok." And then begins to move his head away.

Me? Me. He's been worried about_ me_ this whole time. He would have had no idea that Worf and I got out safely. But he didn't say "Thank god you and Worf got out ok" he just said me. Maybe I mean more than just...I feel tremendously guilty. He's been suffering, hurting, fighting and worrying over me while I simply rested, waited, hoped and agonized over him. What a beautiful man. That must be love. To think of me first...

I want to tell him this. I want to cry with him. But what does he need right now? Should I stick with Will's optimism? Should I try to be cute? Is this really the time? Stop it. Stop over-analyzing and say something. Just go with it.

I squeeze Jean-Luc's hand and lean in. Make it so my lips just brush slightly against his ear. He shivers with what I hope is joy...or expectation. I smile against his skin and whisper: "Back at ya". Hoping I can express my concern without seeming mundane...drear.

As I back away from our momentary contact, I see him smile. I look up and feel Jean-Luc releasing my hand just as Will turns back to face us. If Jean had his tunic on right now, he would be straightening it. I lock my hands behind my back and try to exude an air of professionalism. I can't let Will Riker know that I feel like a schoolgirl inside.

Will walks over to stand beside us. Funny: not a look of judgement on his face. I guess his captain can do no wrong...or maybe he knows how I feel and is happy for me to have had the moment...Those playful blue eyes of his always seem to hold more knowledge than one may think...

The three of us, in a line: ready for transport. Jean-Luc does not even seem hindered by the obvious battering that his body has taken. He stands as straight as the rest of us. Is it possible that I love him more now than I did five minutes ago? His strong-face can only last so long, remember. After that...healing. Crying. Nightmares...again.

We are being beamed up to the ship. In the last few seconds before the Cardassian prison shimmers out of existence, I realize that I never even pulled out my tricorder. Some professional I turned out to be.


	10. Chapter 10

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Hey all. Thanks to everyone who's reading, and especially to my reviewers, NekoMiko625 and "It's me" for the words of encouragement/advice. As per request, I tried to add some Alyssa Ogawa into this chapter and the next. She IS an important part of Bev's work and I don't know why I forgot about her...

anyways, without any more rambling...

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chapter Ten**  
We are beamed into the transporter room. I'm breathing deeply...but not loudly enough for anyone to hear the change. Trying to calm myself. I'm ready for this. I'm a doctor. I'm _the_ doctor of this ship and my captain needs me and I can do this. Calm. Professional now. It's my fault he's like this, I need to fix it.

We step off the transporter pad, Jean-Luc still trying to seem strong. Chest out, head up. He looks sturdier than me right now. But _I know what's inside, Jean._ I see the fatigue in his eyes...there at the very corners where they droop ever so slightly. _What have they done to you?_

In the room: a medical team standing inthe corner. I know that they want to come help, standing on their toes, ready to burst into action. Young and eager..._young..._but Alyssa, at the front of the group is silently shaking her head, no. _Thank goodness for you, Alyssa._ In spite of my harsh demeanor this past week, she's been wonderfully supportive. She still knows exactly what I need, which, right now, is to help Jean on my own.

Breifly, I make eye contact with her, giving her a tired smileto express my gratitude. She just nods her head, solemn, straight-faced.Aside from Dee, Alyssahas been the greatest witness of my pain and guilt over the past week.She's never blamed me for whathappened, even when I blamed myself...

The medical team stands ready with a hover bed...in case...in case...but oh, I know Jean-Luc Picard would never use it. Too much pride. Can't show weakness...all that crap. All the crap that never allows me to treat him properly...or hold him in sickbay for longer than a day. Ha, _Captains make the worst patients._ Jean-Luc, you certainly prove that one to be true.

Holding Jean's arm we walk together towards the door. I think he would shake me off if he didn't need me...I think. Or would he? Am I being annoying? Am I hovering? Oh hell. I'm a doctor. He needs help and damn his pride. Shut up Bev. You're the professional and he's your patient. You are in charge...whether he likes it or not.

How is his breathing? Not as laboured as I would have expected. He's hiding the physical strain very well. But I can feel his skin, moist with effort. Discretely, I touch his wrist with my free hand...his pulse is very accelerated...just from walking. Oh Jean-Luc.

As we are exiting, I look back into the transporter room and catch a flash of yellow. Worf...his security team was standing by. I wonder...what does he think of me now? Have I redeemed myself? I'm good at my Job. Jean-Luc is in my arms; Mr. Worf can think whatever he damn well-  
Oh.  
Jean stumbles. Grabs my shoulder with his free hand. His muscles are strained. He's overwhelmed. He's malnourished. He's sleep-deprived. He can't do this. "Jean-Luc" I say softly "We can transport to sickbay if you want."

I see him looking forward, almost ignoring me. I follow his gaze. Two ensigns from engineering have seen him stumble. Now see him as fragile. Jean will never stand for this. Damn your childish pride, Picard.

Has he heard a word I've said to him? "Jean-Luc," I repeat, "Do you want-"

"-Yes" he whispers, cutting me off. He seems aggravated, but I know it's not with me. He hates his weakness.

"Crusher to transporter room, two to beam directly to the captain's room in sickbay."


	11. Chapter 11

Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Allrighty, last chapter, here we go! Thanks to everyone who read, and also a big thanks to everyone who reviewed!

**From the Inside, Out**

**Chatper Eleven**  
Pulse, a little over normal but starting to slow...colour going back into his cheeks...all other levels returning to normal... Stop, Bev. He's fine, now. You know he is.

It's been a little under twelve hours since he beamed up...I put him under sedation the second we were transported into sickbay. I knew he needed rest, and whatever had happened to him down on the planet would probably have prevented that. The sedation stops nightmares...stops dream activity of any kind. For now, I can protect him from the ghosts of the past week.

Just as I expected them to, my staff has all busied themselves...very far away from the private room in which I worked on Jean. Alyssa came to help me with the minor surgeries, and then conveniently had some sorting that she planned too do. Maybe I should bake my staff a cake after all this...they certianly deserve it...putting up with my moodiness, knowing exactly when to leave me the hell alone...

But of course I can't do that...to celebrate their endurance would mean admitting my weakness as a leader...my weakness as a physician..inability to create professional detachment.

I look down at Jean, looking slightly frail, but also so much better than he did when he came in...yep, definitely a weakness of mine...how are his levels? Does he look uncomfortable?

Two broken ribs, as if he had been beaten...or at least hit hard enough to break bone. Both wrists fractured, and muscles torn all across his arms and shoulders...he must have been hung, or pulled...or dragged by his arms. _Gods. _Blood vessels torn in one eye, complete malnourishment...and this...I don't know. Connected to his nervous system, it must have been some sort of...torture device.

_Torture._ That certainly seems to be what happened down there. A horror. No, a terror. _Rage courses through my body. He never did a damn thing to those Cardassians..._A terrible horrible torture from which he couldn't escape and could only endure with an alarming indifference...if his manner with the guards was any indication..._Damn._ I run my hand through my hair, clench both fists, clench my jaw...it barely helps to control...

I look up from his battered body to his face. In spite of all that happened, he still holds that air of command, even in his sleep. Eyes of depth, knowledge, understanding...well, hid behind his sleeping eyelids, but I know they're there...strong jaw and nose. Any other man may have ben defeated by this experience, but not Jean-Luc. I know I'll never know the true depth of his pain...he'll never tell. Maybe with Deanna, someday...I will be forced to piece together the evidence I find. An issue or activity that he used to like becomes a topic that he avoids...something like that. I respect that, I understand his privacy. It's not like I'm the most open person in the universe. Did he fight them? I'm sure he did...maybe they broke his will...maybe he was just too tired to fight the guards when I saw him...Maybe I'll find something in his official report...

But why can't he tell me? Aren't we friends? Hasn't time, experience, understanding made us close enough to share our pain...made me close enough that I don't have to dig through reports to know the man I'm closest to in the entire...Of course not. Just like I never told him about the real pain I went through after Jack's death. I never told him how badly I wanted to end it all. How defeated I felt. I never really told him about my parents...about their death on Arvada III. It's like we have this semblance of closeness. A relationship of joking, ship's business...

No, it's more than that. Think about all the times Wesley got in trouble...think about how he was after Odan. He and I...I look forward to spending every morning with him. I relish those few times he invites me to dinner. No, I must mean more to him. He certainly means more to me.

He should be waking up in another forty-five minutes...

I had busied myself for the last few hours: filing reports, checking monitors...anything I could do to stop myself from really thinking. Now, here I am with nothing. As soon as the doctorial part was done, I sent away all the nurses...I sent away everyone. Jean needs his privacy. I'll let them come soon...

"Riker to Dr. Crusher" _Not again._ Why can't this man leave me...leave us alone?

"Crusher here." Because he cares, Beverly. They _all _want to know how he's doing...

"I was just wanting to...I just wondered..." ...while you keep him huddled-up in here all by himself.

"He'll be ready for guests soon, Will. Once he's woken up and eaten something, you'll be the first to know, ok?" ...well, not all by himself. _That's why I'm here._ He needs quiet.

A pause. Did I sound too hostile? Am I being too protective?

"All right, let me know as soon as you can..." He sounds...oh I'm sorry Will, but he needs this..._I need this..._

Okay, give him a professional signoff: "I'll contact you as soon as the Captain has regained consciousness and received adequate nourishment, Commander. His levels are stable, Will, he's going to be fine. Crusher out." ...hmmm, well, not as professional as I'd hoped, but certainly intimidating enough that he's not going to burst in here any time soon...good.

I hear Jean-Luc moan as if he is waking. What? How can he be waking so early? It's nearly an hour until his sedation is supposed to wear off. Oh, I'm not ready. Did I give him the wrong dosage? No, of course not. He's simply fighting the drug. Humph, _Over-achiever._ I smile to myself, more like he's trying to get out of sickbay as soon as possible. How do I look? _Ha, like you haven't slept in two days...but maybe he won't notice..._

I sit in the chair beside his bed and hold his hand comfortingly. "Jean-Luc?" I whisper, "Jean, can you hear me?"

No response. Perhaps I have overestimated the dear captain's desire to escape from the dreaded biobed...

I release his hand and move back a little. As a doctor, I know the importance of those comforting touches...I have no problem rubbing someone's neck when they come in with a strained muscle...or holding someone's hand as I tell them bad news...touching their shoulder as I administer a hypo spray in the arm... But there's a fine line between holding your captain's hand while he wakes up, and holding the hand of _the man you love_ while he sleeps. I am just his doctor. I mustn't invade his privacy. Or is that still within the boundaries of friendship? How would he take it? How does he take me?

He turns his head and takes a deep breath through his nose. You know, that deep breath people take when they first wake up. I'm back by his side again.

"Jean-Luc?" I try again, "Can you hear me? It's Beverly, you're on the Enterprise."

He smiles ever so slightly, takes another deep breath, and opens his eyes. Curtains rising to reveal those amazing grey eyes of his that say everything. I can see fatigue, happiness, weariness...he's looking around: probably trying to get a sense of his surroundings. He hasn't looked to me yet.

"Jean?" I whisper...half hoping he'll focus on me, half dreading his reaction...my reaction. He's so vulnerable right now. I have no idea how he'll be...

His eyes shift so that he's looking into mine. I smile and try to project a sense of safety, and friendship. His eyes softly glow in recognition, and trust. And is there a look of relief too? Did he think he had dreamed his rescue..."retrieval"?

"Hey" he strains to whisper.

I know what "hey" means with this man. It's like his ultimate, talk-to-a-person-as-a-friend-and-complete-equal kind of opening. What had Deanna said before? Try not to call him Captain at first? _Speak to him as a man, not an officer._ I can do that. I'm the best person to do that for Jean. I actually knew him as a man first, and an officer later.

I move in a little closer, whisper "Hey" back.

We sit there drinking in each other's presence. He smiles faintly...definitely a sense of relief. I missed him so much. He's already starting to look healthy again. He's so handsome and confident and strong and beautiful and he's finally here and he's so close. I missed him. Softly, and in no way offensively, it begins to drift into my consciousness: he rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. He loves me. He must.

Closing my eyes, I pull myself out. It would be so easy to just reach out to him right now...but I'm his doctor and friend. I can't take advantage of his current dependency._ Not to mention the fact that I'm the reason he's here..._

I completely dissolve the moment by slipping my hand out of his. We can hide behind treatment for now.

"So how do you feel?" I ask in a slightly louder, less intimate tone.

He lifts his hand and joins it with the other across his stomach. He understands...he'll play along.

"I'm actually feeling much better..." he begins, also raising his volume just a bit. I feel like we're putting on a play and are now compensating for having broken character between acts. He lifts himself higher on the bed, openly showing a slight strain at doing so. "...A little stiff, but it's still an improvement." He smiles and looks up at me, much different from the look (_he must love me) _before, "Thank you, doctor."

I screw my face up into a sarcastic smile, "Oh don't even try to sound like you're ready to leave Mr. Jean-Luc Picard..." _no titles, not yet _I see the cheeriness on his face lessen; _did he really think it'd be that easy?_ "...did you really think it would be that easy?"

He chuckles softly, more in contemplation than actually in laughter. He sighs, "You know, I _hoped_ it would be...a man can hope..."

Is he trying to guilt me? "Well," I begin, he's getting a red-headed reply for that one, "A woman, especially a CMO woman, can make sure a man is stronger before allowing him to escape her clutches." I raise my eyebrow, still smiling, and get up. I almost said "her man" instead of "a man"...glad I caught myself.

Without even looking, I can guess that he has a look of confusion painted across his face right now. Where's she going? Is she leaving? Did I upset her? I'll relieve his worry a little... "And to start, since it is the ship's morning, I thought we might have a little breakfast."

I quickly replicate a pair of croissants and apples and bring them over to his bed. I put them on the side table for a moment; reach under his bed a pull out my nana's "breakfast-in-bed" table. Now it's his turn to raise the eyebrow, "My, aren't we prepared..." he says softly.

Is it too much? It's too much. I knew I shouldn't have used something so personal. No, Bev. He's just joking. He doesn't mean it in a negative way. Just joke back. Just cover it with joking...As I continue to set up, I lower my voice, as if trying to sound like a seductive floozy from one of his beloved Dixon Hill novels: "I had a feeling you'd stop by this morning Mr. Picard".

He chuckles again and looks at the table in front of him, "You know, Beverly, this is wonderful, but there's one thing missing..."

I know what you want, and you can't have it! "Jean-Luc, there is no way that I am giving you a stimulant like coffee or tea! You're getting water or juice and you know it."

He lowers his head like a scolded child, sighs, and mumbles, "I'll have orange juice please."

Having finally settled down, we begin eating. A silence falls between us...but certainly not from a lack of things to say. I have so much to tell him, but I don't know where to begin. Should I tell him about the Will/Jellico fight? How Will and Deanna and Geordi and even Worf have been bugging me all yesterday and this morning trying to visit? How I escaped from the planet? How guilty and useless I felt? How our dealings with the Cardassians went? How I visited the ship's classrooms the other day? Ok, start safe: how his treatment's going...

"So I think I'll be able to let you out by the end of the day today." I see him smile at this as I press on, "I've healed most of you physical injuries, they just need time now, I don't think you'll even need any muscle therapy, just a little exercise..." I look straight at him before I continue, make sure he understands, "Jean-Luc, I'm going to recommend putting you on leave for at least another day before you return to duty...I want you to spend some time resting..." and should I complete the sentence? I suppose I have to... "and I think you should talk to Deanna too."

He looks down again; I'm not sure what he's thinking. Is he mad that I would bring it up? Embarrassed that he's vulnerable? Accepting? He nods, still looking down, and takes another bite of his croissant. I quickly bite into mine as well so that I don't have to fill the gap in conversation...

He looks up, smiles...but its that diplomatic smile...chin out, kind eyes...but no real merriment. Oh Jean-Luc that's why I'm here: I want to see the real you. Open up to _me_. Trust _me_.

"So," he begins, putting his croissant down...again with the theatrical tone, "how is everyone? Will? Deanna? Worf?" he looks, waiting for me to break in, I'll bite.

"They're doing well, they all missed you terribly." I missed you too. I missed you most of all. They thought you were dead. They were completely struck with grief. I missed you too, please hear me, _I love you_. "In fact, I've had to do everything I could to keep them out of my sickbay while you recovered."

He chuckles again, that deep rumble of his chest. The happiness returning to his eyes. He's not mad at me, he's shut my comment out, for now. "Oh really?" he asks, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Ha! Are you kidding?" I feel myself become more animated as his smile widens, "In fact, Deanna has called me twice, Geordi and Data called me in a tag-team effort, Worf has called once and Your Number One has called me four times." Is he actually unaware of how much this crew loves him? I really had to resist the temptation to say "number one" in his accent.

"And what did you tell them?" he asks, half still joking, but something else underneath. He really wants to see them...or is it that he really doesn't want to see anyone? Fear I won't let them in? Or fear that I will? Suddenly I remember that he's in a bed looking up at me. Did the shaddows under his eyes deepen just then?

"Well," I begin as I swallow the last bit of croissant, "I told them that until you had rested and eaten something, there would be absolutely no visitation whatsoever..." I chuckle, only now finding the humour in it all, "...apparently, I wasn't intimidating enough because people kept calling back..." I look down in mock disappointment.

He laughs out loud. I feel gratification throughout my being. I sigh, look at him seriously. His smile lessens; he can feel my change in mood.

"But Jean-Luc, there's no rush, you know that, right? If you're too tired, or not ready for a crowd, I'll understand, it's okay..." and lighten the heavy message with... "in fact, I'll take the blame one hundred percent. I'll take the part of the mean doctor keeping you all to myself to do rotten tests and long reports..."

He laughs softly, then looks away...straight ahead. I see pure determination. "That won't be necessary, doctor. I think I can handle a few friends right about now..."

I smile and nod, I know that its time to stop being Beverly, the friend and start being Dr. Crusher. We'll have more time later... I tap my comm. badge. "Crusher to Riker."

"Riker here."

I look down at Jean-Luc as I speak, "William T. Riker," my voice is completely playful now, and Jean-Luc is smiling up at me. "I believe there is someone down here who you would like to see..."

I can almost feel his smirk, "Yes, actually doctor, the thought had crossed my mind."

"Well, you may bring any senior officers you wish, I'll see you soon."

I smile back at Jean as I begin to clear away breakfast. I reach across his lap to grab the tray and feel his hands slide up to rest on mine. He looks to me, his eyes slightly shimmering with happiness, "Beverly," that sincere tone of voice, "Thank you." He pauses, as if actually considering what he's thanking me for, "for this, for everything. You've really made me feel like I'm back home again."

My lip is shaking, I feel my entire throat tensing up. I will not cry, I will not cry. I lean in and kiss him less-than-lightly on the cheek. I stand up, I smile. I can barely see through the tears welling up in my eyes. "You're welcome," I say, as sincere as possible. Should I? _Can I?_ I'll go out on a limb. I'll give him that tiny, tiny, tiny glimpse into my feelings for him. I only have the courage to whisper, "It wasn't home without you, though."

Behind me I hear the doors to sickbay opening. Its time to fall into the background. I look down, lift the tray, and carry it away. I'm not brave enough to look back. How is he looking at me? Don't trip, don't trip.

I smile as I pass Will and Geordi, who smile full-toothy grins back at me. Before I know it, the room behind me is loud with conversation and laughter. Deanna and Data enter next, Dee giving me an especially meaningful gaze as she walks by. She empathic...she probably felt our whole conversation. I'm a little embarrassed, but over the years with Dee, I've kinda gotten used to it. Even felt good knowing that someone else knows exactly how I feel.

And as I turn to join the others in the room, I feel a large grip on my shoulder. Worf. I don't even have to look. I turn to look up into his eyes. I draw my shoulders up, as if still defending myself. _What do you want now?_ "I trust the captain is healing well, Doctor." Is he smiling? No, not really, but there is a kindness in his face and his eyes that is unmistakeable.

I offer my own kind smile, "Yes, Worf. He's doing fine. With a little rest, he'll be back in perfect health in no time." This statement still brings me comfort. He's fine, he'll be _fine_. I've healed all I can.

I feel his hand squeeze my shoulder, now he's actually smiling...sort of. "I knew he would be...under your care." He releases my arm, and heads into the captain's room.

Was that...could that be...an apology. Doth mine ears deceive me? Ha! Wow. There's something to write home about. I take a deep breath of total contentment.

Jamming my hands into the pockets on my lab coat, I walk towards the crowded room. As I lean against the doorframe, I look around at all the smiling faces, my friends,_ my family_. I catch the end of Will's plans for the Elementary school's Captian Picard Day...ha, poor Jean-Luc. The merriment fills the room with colour, light, life. The world is alive again, my world is alive. Jean-Luc is home.

I catch his eye as everyone is laughing about something. He raises his eyebrow slightly as if to joke about the chaotic joy around him. I nearly laugh from the gesture, but instead squint my eyes and smile as if to say, "You know you like it". He grins and nods, and then Data grabs his attention, discussing his next poetry reading...

I know that in the next weeks and months to come, there will be a lot of emotional healing for Jean-Luc to work through...but as Worf says, I know he will be ok. I take in a deep breath and smile...we'll all be ok.

_Fin._

_O_k, so I tried to incorperate everything I aimed to...let me know what you thought! Thanks again for reading :)


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